The Stranger In the Guest Room by V. Lockwood (best books to read for young adults TXT) 📕

as a single neighbor. I didn’t know who to trust right now. Did Easton have ill intentions, or was Brooks just acting out in an envious rage?

My heart plummeted, knowing Brooks may not react to this well. He wasn’t acting normal and seemed to get more irritated about the slightest of things. Easton shoveling a pathway towards my house wasn’t a minor detail in his mind. This would launch him over the edge. And I felt like he would take it out on me.

Hours passed as I stayed secluded in my room. I heard no movement from Brooks. I was starving and headed downstairs to make something to eat, grab my laptop, and come back to my bedroom to get some work done. I turned towards the kitchen and paused when I saw Brooks sitting up to the island sipping on a drink. But what grabbed my attention were the flowers in the vase resting on the countertop.

He watched me without saying a word. I peered at him, silent for a few seconds.

“Where did you get those?”

“I’m sorry,” he stated. “Again. I don’t think I’ve apologized so much in my entire life. I also don’t think I’ve meant the apologies I’ve apologized for so much either. Or something like that.”

I didn’t acknowledge his comment. Instead, I reiterated the question.

“I found them in a box in your basement,” he stated as he took another sip of his drink.

“You went through my boxes?” I asked.

“I won’t lie to you, but yes, I went through your boxes in the basement.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Boredom. And fun fact, I found these flowers. Not sure who gave them to you since they’re fake, but thought you needed some cheering up. And I brought up that pile there of things.” He pointed towards the pantry.

I peered around the island to see an oversized pile of items from my old house.

“Thought you might want to get some things hung on these bare walls, make it feel more like home and not so empty, you know.”

I held my breath for a moment. “Brooks, that was a nice gesture. But I wish you would’ve asked me first before you went through my things and decided to unpack and carry them up here.”

He stared at me.

I stood my ground and stared right back at him.

He shook his head. “I try to do one nice thing for you, and it goes unappreciated. I see how it is.”

“It’s not unappreciated. Thank you. I just wish you would’ve asked me first.”

He took a heavy breath and stood. “I tried.”

I glared at him as he trudged past me into the living room. He then came back into the kitchen and grasped his boots and jacket.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t even look at me. “You’re almost out of wood in the living room. I’m going to bring a large stack in for you. Man duties,” he declared with a hasty glance my way.

I held my breath as he walked outside. Man duties, I echoed to myself. I could bring wood into my house too, but whatever. He could do all the man duties he wanted while he was here.

I shuffled towards the patio door. The weather died down, but it was still howling and blowing. It looked now like it was only snow. The sleet and ice had stopped—at least for now.

The flashing on my laptop drew my attention to the living room. I sat on the couch and opened it up, reached for the cord, and plugged it into the wall. A few minutes later, Brooks walked into the house with his first armload.

“You can do your work,” he suggested when I jumped up to help him. “I got this.”

“I can help.”

“You have your own work to do. I got this.” It was like he was warning me to do my work and leave him alone to do his.

Okay, I told to myself. I will just sit down and do my work.

I covered up with the blanket on my couch and worked on my book as Brooks stacked more wood than we needed next to the fireplace. The stack would last through this storm and most of the upcoming month. I wanted to know what was disturbing him. He had something else on his mind, and I could tell. The first night he showed up, he was just like I remembered him to be. Now, I didn’t know what to think. I was confused and scared the love I had for him was diminishing, piece by piece. And what we shared was something so amazing, I didn’t want to lose it. I didn’t want to let go of him, or of us.

I wished more than anything to fix what I broke and move forward. I couldn’t help but feel like I was taking steps in the wrong direction this time with Brooks. Why did I feel like we were shifting away from each other? And that it was something neither of us had control over.

Chapter Nine

I rolled over in bed to face the door and noticed the glow of a light from underneath it. We had turned off all the lights before going to bed. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I noted it was one-thirty in the morning.

Last night, we fell asleep in our own beds, neither one of us addressing the fact we had yet to deal with the hole in the door. It was a bleak reminder each time I walked upstairs. I slipped out of bed, opened my door, and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Brooks sat at the island, writing something he covered up when he noticed me come around the corner.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“No. You?”

“I don’t feel like I’ve slept in days,” he said.

“I wish you would tell me what’s bothering you. I know something is upsetting you.”

“It’s fine. Dealing with it.”

“So there is something?” I leaned against the wall and stared at him.

“Isn’t there always something we’re going through that we don’t want to overwhelm others with?”

“Well, I’d never consider